


Born of the one light Eden saw play

by Contra



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a lot of references to everything, happy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contra/pseuds/Contra
Summary: In which Crowley's and Aziraphale's flat turns into the place where Stuff That Shouldn't Exist ends up. Or: A story about those tiny paradoxical knickknacks that slipped through the cracks of the Ineffable Plan.





	Born of the one light Eden saw play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewige/gifts).



> This was gracefully translated into [Русский](https://ficbook.net/readfic/8299502) by the wonderful [ewige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewige/pseuds/ewige)
> 
> Title is from [Morning has broken - Cat Stevens](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Rifby1tVE8)
> 
>  
> 
> Basically, does this have plot? No. None whatsoever. Just snapshots of Crowley and Aziraphale living their dumb gay life after the Apocalypse.
> 
> (Basically Im just killing time until the CL final tonight)

 

Things don’t come back the exact same way they vanished. For example on Thursdays around 1PM the Bentley always still smells like burning rubber and hellfire.

Or sometimes Aziraphale will find books in the bookshop that he _knows_ he didn’t put there, and he’ll sigh and leaf through “Woodworking for Dummies” or a Hungarian-language edition of “100 Things To Do In Sussex” and then put them back anyway and marvel at the little glitches in the great cosmic machine.

(He’s pretty sure that he and Crowley count as those, too, these days.)

So maybe that’s what this has become. They’re only still divine on a technicality and somehow the Ineffable Plan has turned them into the universe’s landfill of impossible things. Maybe the reasoning is, if there’s an angel and a demon who love each other, who’s going to object to a handful of butterflies whose colours don’t actually exist? They wonder sometimes if those are divine manufacturing mistakes. Creation is a great big miracle after all and things sometimes slip through the cracks.

Or maybe somewhere High Up there’s a joke that goes “Where does a paradox go to die?” and the punchline is the address of their bookshop in London. [[1](%E2%80%9C#note1%E2%80%9D)]

                                    

It's not that they mind that much, mostly they have more important things to worry about. Like the houseplants - which were formerly known as The Most Terrified Houseplants In The Universe, but with Aziraphale’s steady watering and soothing words have become The Houseplants With The Healthiest Coping Mechanisms For Their Anxiety Disorder - or Crowley messing up this shelf he’s trying to build.

(Apparently “Woodworking for Dummies” had not expected the Dummy in question to be in possession of the literal biblical power of smiting. It had also failed to anticipate the Dummy’s boyfriend taking an experimental approach to the question: “How many bookshelves can you fit into one apartment if you are able to bend dimensional physics and also really love books?”)

 

So what if every once and again the mailman leaves letters with them that are addressed to streets that haven’t existed in a long time, houses that burnt down centuries ago?

Crowley usually fishes them out of the massive piled of junk mail[[2](%E2%80%9C#note2%E2%80%9D)] and reads them to Aziraphale when they’re having tea. So far his favourite is a strongly worded letter to a guy in Babylon about low-quality copper deliveries, which also marks the first appearance of several now well-known vulgarities multiple centuries before they became commonly used.

Crowley declared it an important historical document and it hangs framed next to the autographed original sheet music of Mozart’s classical composition “Leck mir den Arsch fein recht schön sauber.”

 

So what if a girl called Sophie comes in one day and says she found a red scarf outside, gives it to them for safekeeping and stays for tea a little too long? She and Aziraphale have a wonderful discussion about Socrates (Aziraphale doesn’t have the heart to tell her what an absolute prick he was to his wife) and the nature of reality. A few days later, another girl called Hilde comes by to pick up the scarf. The nature of reality, they discover, is remarkable similar to that of an old dog guarding a farmhouse, in that it sometimes sees things that might raise suspicions, but on a sunny enough day, it will simply consider turning over once more instead and keep dozing on.

 

Another day they check out a sweet place in Brighton (and get a bit in trouble for Aziraphale’s attempt to order the dish “Yandelvayasna grldenwi stravenka” that was praised in their travel guide) but they get nice scones with jam and everything is alright in the end, really. The owner even gives them a jar of jam to take home, and it’s not made of any fruit that has bloomed since The First Garden, but homemade is best, anyway.

 

They walk around the beach for a while, collecting only the pebbles that were once part of Atlantis, whose existence was limited to a short few hours and yet. Stuff gets left behind.

 

And in the evening they go home to their flat full of things that shouldn’t even exist and smile at each other and think-

here we are anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> 1Except, of course the paradox doesn't die there. Though it might wish for death upon having to listen to Crowley trying to sing "Hell Is A Place On Earth" - a musical hypothesis of what would have happened if Belinda Carlisle had taken the concept of poetic metre and shot it in the head, Dada-style.  
> 2 Neither of them can resist the offers of advertisers who give them small useless knickknacks in exchange for their address. They have an entire shelf full of printed lanyards right next to shelf full of Mesopotamian kitchenware. Sometimes they even get balloons!


End file.
